Wedding Bell Dreams
by Zetsubel
Summary: Poor nervous little Poet. She's discovered a demon and didn't know it. Now the silly ol' demon sticks to her like glue. What's a poor nervous little wreck to do? JinxOC.
1. Rawr, I'm Jin!

You know it's gonna be a long day when you find someone unconscious in a garbage pile.

Poet Merrilee St. Clair stared long and hard at the tattered body, seriously thinking of just leaving him there. He looked like a gangster. Whatever left those bruises and cuts, he probably deserved it. What was she supposed to do with him? Drag him home to mother with a pretty bow around his neck and ask if she could keep him? That'd totally go over well.

He looked like hell. At least. His torso was bare, and she had to admit, incredible even with the bruises. Hard tan muscle all the way down to his pants hem. The pants looked like something from Aladdin, but strangely enough they seemed to suite him. Dirty bare feet stretched out to almost touch her black loafers. His hair was probably strangest. A wild bush of red with what looked like a silly white streak in the center. It was hard to tell.

One clenched eyelid twitched. Poet jumped and swallowed a squeal. How weird would it be to wake up in a trash heap with some weird girl staring holes into your forehead? She ducked her head to hide behind her curtain of jet black hair. She squeezed the shoulder strap of her backpack nervously and watched as the same twitching eye cracked open. A glazed blue iris stared off into space for a moment, before rolling in her direction.

"U-um…"

The eye flew wide open at the sound of a voice. Poet jumped again and almost took a step back. She swallowed thickly and clenched the strap tight.

"Do… Do you need some help…?"

"Ah…" The boy sat up slowly, wrapping an arm around his purple-blotched waist with a grunt. "Hit me… Hard… The bloody bastard…"

Poet quickly shuffled back as he attempted to stand. He looked like he'd be fine at first. He braced against the wall behind the black garbage bags and almost made it straight up when his left foot slid out from under him. He went crashing back into the filthy puddle of sludge growing there. Poet yelped and dropped her pack in her rush to help him. "Ohmigod! A-are you alright? Do you need an ambulance?"

The boy held up a hand to keep her back, wheezing. "Ah'm alright, lass. Don't be frettin' over wee scratches like these here." He flashed pearly whites. "Ah've had much worse, believe you me. A rough little spat between blood brothers, s'all it was."

Poet's pale cheeks flushed brightly beneath her hair. That had to be the most adorable voice she had ever heard. And up this close… Was that..?

"You… Have a horn," Poet said quietly.

The boy's grin widened, a small dribble of blood oozing from his cut lower lip. "Aye, the ladies love it."

Poet doubted that. She blinked and stood back as he tried to stand again, this time with much more success. She reached blindly for her backpack, ready to bolt. A HORN? Was this guy some sort of vampire or something? Well, hell, why not?

"Um, if you're sure you'll be okay, and you look like you probably will be, then I'm gonna be late for school, y'know, so I sh-should probably go." She almost made it out of the alleyway, before turning back around, fists wringing her backpack strap nervously again. "Y-you're sure… You'll be…?"

"The sentiments are appreciated, lassie," he scoffed, still with a light tone despite his battered body. "But it's gettin' ta be a bit insulting. Ah'm as damn near invincible as they come, I am. In case ye hadn't noticed yet…"

Ears twitched out from under his hair. Elven ears. Fangs glinted where she hadn't seen them before in her worry over his well-being. "Ah'm a big strong demon. Rawr."


	2. Poet

"Please… Please give me my phone…"

Poet clung to the hem of her baggy gym shirt, fingers wringing the fabric mercilessly. Sweat beaded her brow from track practice, and she reeeally didn't like the way the alleged 'demon' was staring at her bare legs.

"Now don't go gettin' yer panties in a bunch, wee lass. The two of us be needin' to have a few words together, we do." Jin swung the glittery pink cell phone lazily, elbow resting on the chain link fence surrounding the track, cheek smashed against his fist. He still looked as banged up as he had that morning, minus the blood dripping everywhere. He had at least made some effort to clean up before catching the human in a public place.

Poet stared wide-eyed at the redhead for a moment, dissecting his sentences in her mind and piecing them back together into something comprehensible. "Uh… huh…"

"Firstly, we really can't be havin' ya go around hollerin' 'bout demons and such. That little known tidbit's suppose to be a big secret, in case ye be wonderin'. Do ye get me?"

She nodded dumbly.

"Terrific! Now, of course I just can't be takin' yer word for it, my sincerest apologies, lass. So our next order a' business'll be findin' out what to do with ya."

A tremor ran up her spine and she took a small step back. What to do with her? Like.. Shutting her up?

The phone stopped swinging as the boy's bright baby blues zeroed in on the movement. He spoke softly, "I'd advise against that, wee lady."

Poet turned and fled. Jin heaved a sigh and banged his forehead against the metal bar of the fence. "And here ol' Jin was tryin' to make this easy on ye. Ah, well. More fun fer me."

A small twist of his wrist and the girl's sneakered feet were swept out from under her by a small strong gust. She lay there for a moment in shock, then quickly scrambled on all fours to run again, throwing a terrified glance over her shoulder. He gave her a wicked grin that stretched from ear to ear.

A shout of her name drew both of their attentions to the rest of the team, who were packing it in for the night. A tall, slender black girl was waving wildly in their direction. Jin frowned and let the girl go, his fun spoiled for the time being. She flew across the grass in record time, forsaking the poor phone she had dropped in her escape that morning.

Zekaia caught her around the shoulders and swung with the momentum, nearly causing both girls to slide in the wet grass. Poet clung to the taller girl, gasping for air in both exertion and desperation. She hadn't thought he would hesitate. He was like James Bond, she had found out his secret, now he had to kill her. At least that was her thoughts on it.

"Damn, Po! What'd that douche say to you? I ain't ever seen you run that fast!" Zekaia smacked Poet's pale cheek lightly.

"He… It… He just… W-wanted.. To give… Give me my phone," Poet said between gasps, bending her hands on her knees and looking back. The boy was gone.

"L-let's go. Coach'll lock us out."

Poet tugged Zekaia hurriedly up the stairs leading back into the locker rooms, too scared to look back again.

* * *

It started raining again after practice, the way it had been off and on all day. Poet stood underneath the awning of a side door to the gym, back in her regular clothing; dark wash skinny jeans, baby blue rain boots and a soft form-fitting sweater of the same color. Zekaia said it was her best color, making her eyes look blue instead of washed-out grey. She pulled the zipper up on her black winter coat, throwing up the furry hood in an effort to hide herself from her new stalker. She still had to walk to the elementary school, pick up the twins, and walk home. They weren't in a particularly small town, and the long walk always frizzed her nerves in GOOD weather. She didn't need anymore stress.

"Hey!"

Poet nearly jumped out of her skin, whirling around and back pedaling quickly into the rain. Zekaia stood a foot away from where the nervous wreck had been standing, hazel eyes wide and hands held up.

"Wow, don't freak out! Sorry!"

Poet gave a tiny glare and huff, hand over her heart. "God, Kai-Kai! Don't DO that to me!"

The other girl's dark, full lips twitched upward a bit. She flared her bright pink umbrella to life and joined Poet in the rain. "Thought you could use some company, with that guy creeping around. Did you piss in his cereal or what?"

A wave of relief washed over Poet as the two girls started the trek to the elementary school, side-by-side and splitting umbrella duties. She felt much better with her best friend there, the best friend who happened to be a ferocious shopaholic and the only girl on the school football team. She could take down any boy on the field and still look sexy doing it, even in those bulky pads. To add insult to injury to her victims, Zekaia had hot-glued a big pink bow to her orange and black helmet so everyone knew who he gotten pummeled by a girl. Poet admired the girl phenomenally and aspired to have that much confidence someday.

It hadn't happened after three years of bff-ness, but she still held out for that dream.

"Please don't stop the mu-usic!"

Poet swung her hips to the song blaring from the boom box in the trailer's small kitchen. Beside her, Marina, the sister twin, bumped hips with her and twirled with the plastic blue plates to set the table. Payton pouted on the couch in the adjoining living room, flipping through channels without really seeing what was on. Still grounded from the Wii, he refused to talk to anyone besides 'you're in my way' on his way to the bathroom.

Poet eyed the two fondly as she heated up the sauce for spaghetti. At ten-years-old, both still had their baby blonde hair, though it was darkening the older they grew, with eyes a brighter silver than her dull grey. Marina had Poet's freckles passed on to them from their father, and Payton was already almost a foot taller than his twin. He'd pass six feet easily in his high school years. Marina wanted to be a cheerleader for an NFL team, Payton wanted to be an actual player. The two were alike in almost every way but gender.

"Play 'Little Piece of Heaven'!"

In every way but gender and music tastes. Marina shot Poet a pleading look and whined, "No way, that song's so creepy!"

"Sorry, Rinnie. We listened to a song you like, it's his turn." Poet switched the player over to CD mode, clicked the right track into place.

"Before the story begins, here's a touch of sin…"

Just to rub salt in, Payton jumped over the back of the couch and strummed an invisible guitar in the middle of the kitchen. Marina whined, but Poet joined in, she and Payton singing off key together. Family moments.

Until the rest of the family came home. While the three youngest were eating, watching Zombieland for the umpteenth time, the eldest and mother came home. Both bleach-blonde, faux tanned, stumbling women busted through the front door giggling madly, faces flushed as they held onto each other and the bulky biker between them. Three other bikers, all varying in height but equally as greasy as the first, shoved in after them, heading straight for the yellowed fridge and the oodles of Bud Light in the crispers.

The three on the couch quieted their laughter, falling into routine. They stayed as quiet as possible to stay invisible until Mama and Celia moved the party outside onto the deck. Routine was broken when the youngest looking biker slung his upper half over the back of the couch between Poet and Marina, causing both girls to jump. Payton tensed on the other side of Marina, brows furrowed in warning that the biker ignored.

"Heeey, miss Poet. Whatcha doin'? Aren't you old enough to party now?" he grinned, showing off the gape in his top teeth. He looked pretty bruised up. Shame, Poet thought. He would've been a handsome guy if he hadn't gotten a Mohawk or brushed his teeth once in a while.

"No thanks, Billy.. You know I'm not into that," she said without a smile, giving him no indication to be encouraged.

"Still a fuckin' pussy, huh? Jesus, you're such a prick," one of the other guys, beer-gutted and bald, jeered from the sliding glass door that lead out to the big deck in the backyard. "You need to let loose a bit like your sister. There's a bitch who knows how to have fun."

Poet just looked down and grunted, biting into her garlic bread to avoid answering. Payton was going to do that for her, apparently.

"Dude, Marlon, shut the fu-"

Marina slapped his knee. Hard. Payton swore just as Marlon was about to step in and defend his 'biker honor'. The woman of the house, Mama, caught his beefy arm. "Marlooon, babyyy, where ya going? Come sit with me. Payton, watch your goddamn mouth."

The glass door slammed shut, and all four on the couch stayed silent for a moment. Billy finally snorted and stretched, joining the adults outside without a word.

It took only thirty minutes, and more and more partiers joined the first group. When it was clear this was going to be another long drunken night, Poet threw the kids their jackets and the three dumped their food in favor of the mall. It was a shame. They were in a trailer, yeah, but it was a large grounded trailer, and was actually very nice. It had been left to Poet's mother after her grandparents passed away, along with a nice sum of money and stocks. It was good for them all, but their mother abused that so much with all of her 'friends', Poet sometimes wondered if it was worth it. If they lived in a shithole, at least then her mother would be too embarrassed for parties.

Payton and Marina chased each other the whole two mile walk to the mall. At one point Poet had to smack them both in the back of the head when they started shoving each other into traffic. If all else was lost, the three had each other. Poet's chest blossomed with warmth at that thought.

That warmth chilled when, an hour later, she spotted the redheaded demon across the food court. He was in clean clothes, thank God, normal clothes. Later she would admit he looked pretty good in jeans, but at that moment, she was just scared. She hunched her shoulders to hide her face in the fuzziness of her hood, watching him from the corner of her right eye. She and the twins were in line on the other side of the court, waiting to get in to laser tag. Zekaia and a few other friends of hers and the twins had joined them. Four of the twins' friends and two of Poet and Zekaia's friends. A group of ten, perfect for a game of laser tag. A whole quarter section of the second floor had been devoted to a giant maze for the players.

Poet stepped closer until she was pressing into Zekaia. The darker girl, taking this as a friendly bump, returned the gesture, grinning prettily and looking down. "Excited, too?"

Poet glanced back, but the boy and the two guys he was with had disappeared. Her heart rate slowed a fraction. It was their group's turn in line, and she dismissed the sighting as paranoia. It wasn't surprising. She had panic attacks and delusions all the time. She had pills for it. She tossed back two of those pills dry before they got to the security desk, tossed her coat into the pile beside the door, and slid her game vest on. The group was given vests in alternating colors, blue then red, which worked out perfect with the even number of participants. A few smaller groups behind theirs was allowed in until they had sixteen players total. Zekaia and Marina were both on red, Poet and Payton and two of his friends on the blue. The helmets and pads were mostly for show, but things did get pretty heated in there.

The double doors opened, money was exchanged, and the game was on.

* * *

Ignore the fact that in the last chapter I had Poet in loafers. I changed my mind.

Plus! I've never been to laser tag (sob!) so I pretty much just winged that. If I'm on the right track, kickass! If not, ignore it.

So her family life's not perfect. I already did the single rich kid bit, I wanted to do something that hit a little closer to home. No, my family's not that messed up, but we came from that side of the tracks. We just happened to have strong family values, too.

Zekaia is sort of dedicated to a friend, who's daughter's name is Zekaia. Zuh-kai-uh. It's pretty. And yes, she's black. I won't beat around the bush with things like 'dark skinned' or 'darker'. She's black. Poet's white. Boohoo. Says Foamy the Squirrel.

Anyway. I missed this story! GOD, I hope Jin doesn't sound too retarded. He's a pain in the ass to word, as much as I might love his sexy ass. Sorry for the delay, enjoy!


End file.
